Page 40 of Your Pace Or Mine

My chest tightens at the memory of last night. I didn’t think twice when I got the message, just threw on shoes and a sweater and ran. It nearly broke me to see Ashley so shaken. She deserves to spend the day taking care of herself, not devoting a single thought to this asshole, but I can’t leave her out of the loop.

“Sebastian,” she says in a relieved tone when she answers the phone, like she was hoping I’d call. I shake off the warmth that fills me at her voice.

“How are you doing?” I ask, trying not to throw out all the other questions running through my mind. Does she need me to come over? Does she regret everything from the past twenty-four hours? Does she know anyone with a woodchipper in case I need to dispose of Clint’s body? I suddenly want to protect her like some kind of superhero. Cool it, Sebastian.

“Okay. I’m watching movies and eating comfort food,” she replies. “I wish Laurel were here.”

I want to yell at Laurel for having the audacity to visit her boyfriend’s parents on a weekend when Ashley needs her. Then again, if Laurel were here, I wouldn’t have been Ash’s first call.

“I can come over.”

“No, no, you’ve done so much. I’m going to veg all evening. I’m fine.” Her voice is unnaturally chipper, like she’s trying to convince herself. “Anyway, what are you calling about?”

Right, that whole thing. My voice cracks. “I wanted to give you an update on the situation. With, well, you know who.” It’s dumb. Ashley isn’t going to dissolve into hysterics at his name, but I’d rather not say it. My blood pressure rises when I even think it.

“Oh, okay,” she replies in a small voice. “I haven’t been online.”

Understandable. “He’s been trolling us all day, which isn’t surprising, but he’s more persistent than other trolls we’ve had. I’ve reported him for harassment, but of course it takes too long for that process to go through.”

“Well, you know how men are. Turn them down for sex and they’re like a snake that got riled up,” Ash says dryly, as if this isn’t a horrifying statement but just how things are.

My mind flashes back to last night, to her claiming it was partly her fault because she let her guard down. I think about all the guys I’ve interacted with over the years at parties or in bars who complained about women being a tease or leading them on. I should have punched each one in the face. Have women been scared to say no to me? God, I hope not. I’ve always tried to be upfront with what I’m looking for, but I have the sinking feeling that it hasn’t been enough.

“Fuck, the world is awful.”

“Glad you’ve finally caught on, Sebastian,” Ashley replies, and I’m reminded I called to update her, not discuss my own existential crisis.

I clear my throat. “This is where we stand. We’ve deleted his account, and Cleo blocked him on all our social media platforms, but he’s of course already made new accounts and started posting. It’s basically Whac-A-Mole.”

“I wish I could whack that guy,” Ash mutters.

“We’ve come up with a more, let’s say, inventive solution. He’s got some dodgy history, tweets that are misogynistic at best, or at worst show a disdainful and potentially violent attitude towards women. Some of them were deleted, but the internet is forever.”

God bless Cleo and her particular set of skills. May I never piss her off.

“I also reached out to the bar, and they confirmed they have cameras, and the security guard remembers you.”

“Okay.” Ash replies hesitantly like Seth did when we discussed this strategy. He’s the tech brains, but navigating human beings is usually my job. Luckily, I am more Machiavellian than my partner.

“We sent him a message that we’ve acknowledged his complaints. But given his history of misogynistic behavior and the video evidence, it might not look good for him to keep playing this game since we have no qualms about telling the entire internet what kind of person he is.” I’m tempted to rub my hands together like a movie villain. I can still picture Ashley’s tear-stained face in my mind, and I really want to take this guy down.

“Well, that’s good then.” Her voice is reluctant, but then she adds, “I wish he could be put on blast, but I get that it’s probably better not to poke the bear if you can get him to back down.”

“Trust me, I’d love to see it too.” I’ve already envisioned going on an internet crusade against this dude, but he could lash out at Ashley, either online or in person. He doesn’t know her last name, but there are ways of finding things out. I don’t tell her this, not wanting to put it out into the universe.

“Anyway,” I continue. “Cleo wrote a statement that acknowledges the situation and what we’ve done in response, but I’d like you to read it first since Miss Midtown is mentioned. If you agree, Cleo will repost it on your account.”

“Sure, send it to me,” she replies quickly. “I want to forget about it. I’ve got some content that I’ve saved in case of a rainy day, so the account won’t be silent, but for now⁠—”

I can hear what she’s not saying out loud. She isn’t ready to get out there and talk about dating like everything is normal. Of course. My gut clenches to think about her being afraid. “Take your time, Ash. If you need a hiatus from posting, it’s fine.”

“Thanks, Bash. I’ll let you know. And if you want to come over or me to come to your place this week, just reach out.”

I clear my throat, trying to rein in my emotional responses of anger, protectiveness, and grief at how run down she sounds. “Yes, of course. Take care, Ashley.”

Statement from Single In The Six, posted across various social media platforms.

Over the weekend, a troubling incident occurred involving our platform. During a date arranged via this app, a man assaulted a woman he allegedly suspected of being Miss Midtown. This occurred at a downtown club, and we have been in touch with the establishment, which verified the account. The user then proceeded to harass Miss Midtown over social media and post inflammatory statements on the app’s social media accounts. We have blocked this user from our system as well as from all our social media platforms.